


More Espresso, Less Depresso

by Listenerofshadows



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, Platonic Sleepixiety, Vomit Mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 09:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17895920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Listenerofshadows/pseuds/Listenerofshadows
Summary: “Remy! You’re–”“–a genius, mastermind, worthy all of your praise and admiration?”“I was going to say you’re crazy.”





	More Espresso, Less Depresso

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic based off a tumblr prompt that Acantha_Echo suggested: platonic sleepixiety w/ the word mastermind.

“Remy! You’re–”

“–a genius, mastermind, worthy all of your praise and admiration?” Remy asked, taking a sip of the drink he concocted. He swear he could taste color.

“I was going to say you’re crazy.” His roommate Virgil deadpanned.

“Damn right I am crazy. Crazy genius mastermind who’s worthy of all your praise and admiration that’s whaaaat,” Remy said, holding out the last word as long as possible, “you’re just jelly that you hadn’t thought of it yourself.”

“Ten espresso shots, really? You’re going to kill yourself!” Virgil’s voice grew high-pitched.

“Relaaax I’m fineee.” Remy said, not at all reassuring.

Virgil snatched the coffee cup away from him. Remy let out a screech, hand raised towards Virgil. 

“Give it ba–” He didn’t finish his words. A terrible feeling seized his stomach and then it was gone.

“There, there, Rems.” Virgil said. 

Remy blinked. He was on the floor. What? A pungent smell entered his nostrils and he looked down at the floor, wincing. He’d thrown up. Okay, perhaps Virgil had a reason to be worried after all. 

“Let me guess, that wasn’t your first cup of coffee?” Virgil asked, as he cleaned up Remy’s vomit. 

“Maaaybe?” Remy said. He tried getting up, but vertigo hit him hard. Virgil caught him before he made contact with the floor.

“You are an _idiot_ ,” Virgil growled, “when is the last time you’ve slept?”

Remy tried thinking. But the more he thought, the more he realized how much of a blur the last few days had been.

“What day is it?” He asked weakly.

“That’s  _it._  It’s naptime now.” Virgil stood up, hoisting Remy into his arms. He started marching off towards Remy’s bedroom.’

Remy protested, squirming in an attempt to escape Virgil’s hold. It was no use. He was no match against Virgil sleep-deprived as he was.

“Gurl, please. I can’t sleep.” Remy groaned as Virgil placed him onto his bed.

“Of course you–”

“ _I can’t._ ” Tears unwillingly sprang from his eyes.

Virgil stopped, his face softening.

“Why not?” He asked.

 “Insomnia.” Remy said, the rest of his words dying in his throat.

Virgil sucked in a breath.

“Shit, Rems, I’m sorry. Insomnia sucks, but coffee isn’t gonna fix that. It’s gonna make it worse. You need rest, even if that just means closing your eyes in a dark room for a bit.”

“I don’t wanna.” Remy whined, uncaring of how much he sounded like a toddler in the moment. He didn’t want to try sleeping. He hadn’t been able to for the last couple days or so. The only thing that had kept him coherent enough until now was coffee.

He was fully prepared to die by caffeine overdose. He could picture the headlines now. “Florida Man Dies By Caffeine Overdose.” What a wild way to be remembered.

“I know Remy,” Virgil said, sighing, “How about this? We both get snuggled up under a bunch of pillows and blankets while I tell you about the shitstorm that went down at work today?”

“Does it involve a white middle aged “Can-I-Speak-To-Your-Manager” soccer mom?” Remy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Worse; a whole pack of them.” 

“Alright fine. Curse you for exploiting my weakness for gossip.” Remy grumbled.

“Great. I’ll be right back.” Virgil said, cackling.

Remy didn’t wait long before a blob of pillows and blankets entered the room again. He laughed once realizing it was Virgil.

“What? I told we were gonna snuggle with a crapton of pillows and blankets. I hold up my end of the bargain,  _unlike some people._ ”

“Hey that was one time!” Remy exclaimed, “And I did uphold it–eventually!”

“That’s debatable.” 

The two continued to banter as they figured out a configuration of the pillows and blankets. At one point Virgil persuaded Remy to take off his sunglasses. Then Virgil turned off the lights and drew the curtain shut. The room was dim; daylight from outside streaming through the cracks of the curtain. He jumped back into the bed, into his own pile of blankets beside Remy.

“Okay so there I was, standing at my register. Bored out of my mind. I’d taken to counting the floor tiles for entertainment when suddenly–”

Remy closed his eyes–letting Virgil’s words wash over him. Normally he’d be interrupting every half-second, with a snarky comment or questions. Virgil would roll his eyes or exclaim, “Just be patient–I’m getting there!”

This time, he was content to listen. Talking took too much energy. God, he was so exhausted. Virgil asked if he was still listening. He hummed in affirmation. Virgil continued again, his words sounding more muffled than before. Was Virgil trying to talk underwater? Did he have a bunch of marbles in his mouth?

He tried opening his eyes. No use. It was too much energy. Virgil’s words grew fainter and fainter, until Remy could hear him no more. For the first time in three days, Remy fell into a deep sleep.


End file.
